A tale of two Christmases
by raffertypaulsen
Summary: How Harvey stole Christmas (and Donna's heart). Pre-canon angsty Darvey, set in 3x06 and 8a. Repost from the Darvey Advent Calendar.


_**Pearson Darby Specter  
Four years ago**_

The day Harvey Specter's name went up on the wall was unremarkable in every other way, except for one tiny, significant detail.

Donna was late that day.

It wasn't so much the fact that she was late that was rankling him—more so that he knew what was causing it, or more precisely _who._ Donna having a love life was nothing new, of course (in their ten years together he'd managed to develop a fairly easy-going outlook on that), but having to look the guy in the face every morning wasn't usually part of the deal. And neither was having them interfere in his cases.

Until now.

He knew his first day as a name partner was a great opportunity to make a statement. To make a bold move that would turn the Hessington case in their favor, like closing an impossible witness or uncovering a unexpected piece of evidence. And yet…he'd spent the greater part of the last half hour staring at her empty desk. It felt strangely far away today, the glass a more impenetrable barrier than ever.

Migrating over to his record collection, he takes his time picking something out, mostly to keep his mind occupied and block out the images that are threatening to invade his consciousness. He wasn't usually opposed to visions of Donna in bed, but this morning there was an unwelcome intruder in the scene.

When she finally enters the room a few minutes later, he feels her presence before he sees her. "Dom Perignon's on ice, and Bloomberg's closing Broadway for the ticker tape parade," she says with thinly-veiled annoyance. He doesn't turn around at first, not because he's being petty, but because the hurt on his face would be too transparent. It takes him a moment to rearrange it into something closer to indifference.

"You saw the sign?"

"Yeah. Dream come true for any lawyer."

It should be a dream come true. But today it doesn't feel like one.

His performance in their conversation that follows (oh yes, it's certainly a performance) convinces neither of them of how _unbothered_ he is. With every bitter word that falls from his mouth he hates himself more and more, but he feels betrayed by her in a way he rarely has. Irrational though it is, given that he chose not to tell her, it hits especially hard that this is the first of his career milestones that they haven't celebrated together. She'd become such an extension of him that he'd hardly contemplated this as a possibility.

That someday she'd meet someone who she wanted to work with, _and_ be with.

※※※

Luckily, there's a lot to keep him occupied these days, and he manages to put Donna's love life out of his mind for the rest of the day. But the next morning he gets a rude reminder when he opens his laptop and sees the email at the top of his inbox.

_Welcome to the 6th Annual Pearson Darby Specter Secret Santa!_

He rolls his eyes in derision. It was the first of December and he should have been expecting it, knowing that Louis was particular about such things, but he literally could not have been in a less festive mood.

_You have drawn: Stephen Huntley!_

_As a reminder, the rules for the gift giving are as follows…_

"Oh, fuck no," Harvey curses, slamming his laptop closed. Storming off in the direction of Louis' office, he's grateful that Donna isn't around to coax him into calmness in this particular instance.

"Louis," he announces himself sharply, as he arrives in the doorway. "Take me out of your stupid Santa thing, I'm not doing it."

"No can do," Louis says. "If you remove one person then the integrity of the whole draw is compromised, and—"

"Why are you even running the damn thing anyway, aren't you Jewish?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy festive gift giving."

"Couldn't you have left the fucking British invasion out of it?" he snaps.

"You know cultural integration is very important, Harvey, we can't be excluding—"

"_Fine_, then just cancel the whole damn thing."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm a goddamn name partner and you're not, that's why. So if I say to cancel it, you cancel it. This firm has more important things to worry about than your childish games. Remember how we're in the middle of a murder trial?"

He knows that he's really the one being childish, but he chooses not to dwell on that thought.

Louis looks momentarily chastised by this outburst, then shakes his head angrily. "Wow, one day into your reign and you're already acting like a dick. Sorry, your Highness," he grumbles.

"You wanna talk about acting like royalty? Tell me, exactly how much does your cat's shampoo cost?"

"I don't—that's…neither here nor there—" Louis stammers.

"I rest my case. It's done." And with that, he strides out of the room before Louis can protest any further. Like most times when he lets his temper get the better of him, he'll probably come to regret it later.

But Harvey Specter had learned the hard way that anger can numb pain for a while, and sometimes, love is pain.

※※※

Later that afternoon when he gets back from the disaster of a negotiation with Cameron, he finds Donna sitting on his couch. He's sure she's here to call him out on his recent behavior, but he's just not in the mood. It was hard enough to confront the fact that he was fucking up professionally without being reminded of his personal failings at the same time.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" she says.

"Talk about what?" he says grumpily, going straight to his desk and avoiding her gaze.

"Why you felt the need to lash out at Louis over a holiday gift exchange?"

He sighs. Of course Louis had run to her to complain. "You know I don't like Christmas, Donna."

She looks apologetic; she does know. He'd told her once, in a particularly vulnerable moment driven by too much scotch at the DA Christmas party, how he'd come home from college one year to find that his Dad had gone on tour again and his mom had invited her "friend" over for Christmas dinner. The holiday had been tainted ever since.

"I know that," she says gently. "But I also know you've done it the last five years. I bought the gifts for you and everything was fine."

"Yeah, well, maybe I don't want to do that anymore." When this feeble explanation fails to move her, he tries a different tack to get her off his case. "Donna, I'm sorry, but I'm busy. I have a meeting with Ava in an hour, and—"

"I know your schedule, Harvey."

"Do you? Seems like you're paying more attention to someone else's these days." He hadn't meant to go there, not when that topic was still fragile between them, and he winces as soon as the words slip out.

She lets out a frustrated groan and all her sympathy is suddenly gone. "Is this about Stephen? _Again_?"

"No, it's nothing to do—"

"Because he clearly bothers you, and I can't think of any other reason why you would suddenly feel the need to cancel Christmas except that you want to make everyone else feel as miserable as you are!"

"That'll be all, Donna," he says dismissively, not in the mood for a lecture that would make him feel even shittier than he already did.

"Okay, you know what, fine," she says in exasperation, throwing up her hands. "Act like the Grinch who stole Christmas if you want. But don't expect me to back you up on this." She storms back to her desk in a huff; he sits at his and contemplates how everything had gone so wrong.

Despite the fact that things were rocky between them at the moment, he really hadn't intended on making things worse over something so trivial. But he'll make it up to her, someday. He files that away with the other 'somedays' in the back of his mind (odd, for a guy who was all about '_today' _and '_right now' _in the office, how 'someday' seemed adequate where she was concerned).

They don't speak for the rest of the day, as Ava and Cameron and the Colonel take over his thoughts and he goes from lashing out at Louis to lashing out at Huntley, which is much more satisfying.

The next morning, the accumulating guilt and shame from treating her horribly the last couple days carries him into a shitty diner (_their_ shitty diner), and he finally comes clean. And so they go back to normal, for the most part. But when he slams Stephen into a wall a few nights later, it's not just the mirror that cracks apart; it's also his carefully constructed facade of _caring only makes you weak. _Because if that's true…then he's really, _really,_ fucking weak for Donna Paulsen.

※※※

After the story of Harvey angrily canceling the Secret Santa spread among their colleagues, no one dares bring it up with him again. And so its demise endures for three more years and three more firm names.

For the next Christmas, he treats himself to a blonde (with just the slightest tint of strawberry, if you squint) and a bottle of Macallan 40, and yet somehow ends up feeling as empty as his decanter by the end of the night.

Harvey spends the second Christmas with Mike and Rachel, after Mike gets out. He idly wonders how Donna would have dealt with him going to prison instead, and he starts thinking that maybe having people in your life that you loved wasn't a liability but rather a privilege.

The third year he travels to Boston to visit his mom and Marcus and the kids, and for the first time in his life he thinks about what it would be like to have a family of his own. Around this time, his dreams start to change too. Donna doesn't show up in his bed quite so much, but sometimes there's a child now—a boy or a girl, but always a redhead—and it doesn't take therapy to tell him what that means.

As the fourth Christmas approaches, he decides that it's never too late to make things right. Maybe in more ways than one.

* * *

_**Zane Specter Litt  
Present day**_

"Louis, do you have a minute?" Harvey inquires from the doorway of his partner's office.

"Of course, Harvey, come in."

"Thanks," Harvey says as he takes a seat opposite him. "Um," he begins, faintly uncomfortable with the topic of the conversation. "Do you remember a few years ago, we used to do a Secret Santa thing in the office?"

"Um, yeah…?" Louis stares at him. "Do _you_ remember when you acted like a dick and got rid of it?"

"Yeah, sorry about that," Harvey coughs awkwardly. "Do you think we could…would you want to…bring it back this year?"

"You really mean that?"

"I really do."

"What made you change your mind? Your heart grew three sizes or something?" Louis chuckles at his own joke.

"Something like that…" he hesitates. "It's…I want to get Donna a present but we're in a weird place. We didn't do gifts last year, because…" he trails off in embarrassment.

"Because you were with Paula," Louis finishes for him.

"Yeah," he admits, still feeling months later like it's a dirty secret he'll never be able to wash away.

"So you want me to rig it so you get Donna."

"Would you?" he says sheepishly.

"But Harvey, you know you don't need a reason to get Donna a gift, right?"

"I know, it's just…I'm sorry for what I did that year. And she loves Christmas so much, I thought it would be like two gifts in one, by bringing it back."

"It was about Donna last time too, wasn't it?" Louis looks at him thoughtfully. "When you made me get rid of it?"

He's about to lie and say no when he checks himself; he'd spent thirteen years being dishonest about his feelings and it surely hadn't gotten him anywhere.

"Yeah, it was."

"So…all this time, you…"

"Loved her? Yes."

His words hang in the air for a few minutes as Louis is rendered entirely speechless by what he's just heard. Harvey clears his throat in an attempt to bring him out of his trance. "So…will you make it happen?"

"_Yes_!" Louis says enthusiastically, finally managing to regain his senses. "Of course, Harvey. What are friends for, if not compromising the integrity of office gift exchanges in the name of love? Consider it done."

"Thanks, Louis." Having revealed far more than he generally preferred for personal conversations with Louis, Harvey gets up to leave and makes it halfway to the door.

"Um, Harvey? Are you going to tell her?"

"That's not why I…" He hesitates for a moment as he turns around. "She's in a different place than I am, Louis." He thinks sadly of her words that had pierced through his long-buried hopes. _Whatever I thought might be there…wasn't. _It damn sure had been there for him. So intensely that it had temporarily driven him from his sanity.

"If the place you are referring to is being in love, then you _are _in the same place because _she _is also in that place."

"Okay, I didn't understand that, but—"

"Seriously, Harvey, listen to me. When Donna resigned last year, she came to say goodbye. I asked her if it bothered her, that you'd been willing to let her go like that."

Somehow, Louis says it without any judgment, but his words feel like a punch to Harvey's gut anyway. For twelve years, the biggest constant in his life had been his certainty that he would not—_could_ not—lose her. And then he had gone and done it on purpose. After all his emphasis on the importance of loyalty, he had managed to utterly betray Donna and everything he believed in.

"She said what bothered her most," Louis continues, "was even after all that, she still couldn't let _you_ go."

"But that doesn't mean…"

"It means everything, Harvey."

And so he leaves Louis' office with his mind racing, contemplating possibilities that he'd given up on not so long ago. Almost daring to hope that the _normal _they'd settled into wasn't the only choice for them.

Almost daring to hope for more.

※※※

Now that they don't work side by side anymore, Harvey finds himself inventing opportunities to visit Donna's office, if only to ask some unnecessary question about his client list or his case load. Truth be told, he was finding it hard to break out of their 'work mode', and he knew he had no one to blame but himself. Since the wedding when their lines had blurred more than ever, she'd been unfailingly professional. But he missed _them_—the smiling, the drinking, and the flirting that had brought life to this often tiresome place.

Ever since his talk with Louis he'd been taking these opportunities to analyze her every expression for a hint of what she might be feeling, but she certainly wasn't giving anything away.

When he visits her this evening it's ostensibly to ask about an engagement letter, but it's really to see what her reaction is to the email Louis had just sent out.

"Hey," he greets her, admiring her fitted black dress that shows off just enough cleavage to be distracting.

"I've got bad news for you," she says, faux-seriously. "Secret Santa is back. You may need to prepare yourself for some Christmas cheer."

"I think I can handle that," he smiles.

"Need any help with your gift buying?" There's a twinkle in her eye and it's been far too long since he's seen that.

"Nope," he says with satisfaction. "I've got it covered."

When he fails to elaborate, she narrows her eyes at him in suspicion. "You're awfully secretive. Who'd you get?"

"You know, it is called _Secret_ Santa for a reason." She's staring him down, but he's determined not to crack.

"That never stopped you before, mister," she jokes. "And I have a whole stack of gift receipts somewhere to prove it."

Wanting to avoid the topic of past years' gifts in case they prompted a conversation about the last, failed edition, he hastily changes the subject.

"So, uh, any plans for the holidays?"

"Just going up to my parents' place, the usual. What about you?"

"Um. I might go to my mom's. It's still a bit up in the air, I guess." Up in the air because he hadn't given up on the idea that maybe, just maybe, he could be spending Christmas with her.

"Oh, that's nice," she says, as inscrutable as ever. "Well, I really hope you get a chance to go, Harvey." Her eyes drift back to her laptop and he takes the hint; she's busy, things are veering from professional to personal, and they don't do this anymore. He wishes more than anything that he could just go to her and wrap his arms around her. But she wasn't his to hold, not yet. And not ever if he couldn't find the words to tell her how he felt.

"Yeah, me too," he says, as he turns to leave. What he means is, _I really hope I don't._

※※※

Donna didn't usually mind being alone for the holidays.

She always had a nice dinner with her parents, and spent the rest of her time off treating herself to some much-needed rest and relaxation.

But there was something about this Christmas that had brought out her introspective side. As she approached her fortieth year, she felt like she was at a crossroads—either decide that marriage and a family wasn't for her, or make an effort to give herself that opportunity.

She'd chosen to completely remove all thoughts of Harvey from this decision, because she couldn't let emotion cloud something she needed to be practical about. And trying to fathom his desires was a completely impractical exercise. She'd made the mistake of succumbing to hope earlier this year, when he'd chosen her over Paula. And again when they'd danced all night at Mike and Rachel's wedding, and he'd looked at her as though he was the one making a vow. But as the days and weeks and months passed and still nothing had changed, she decided that she couldn't torture herself like that anymore. It felt overdramatic to say he had broken her heart; it was more like every missed opportunity and disappointment over the last thirteen years had slowly chipped away at it until she wasn't sure how much was left.

Throughout all their time together, she'd been able to count on Harvey for anything she needed, and trust that he would always come through. But she couldn't count on him for this. She had to live her life, and plan a future that might not involve him. And that was a hard truth to accept.

So on this Christmas Eve her mind was heavy with the weight of her thoughts. And she was in no hurry to leave work early, being as it was the one area of her life where she had everything.

As she shifts a stack of folders on her desk, she uncovers a red envelope that she hadn't spotted before. She'd been so preoccupied with her thoughts lately that she'd completely neglected to notice that she hadn't received anything yet from the newly-reinstated Secret Santa, which seems to be the best explanation for this mysterious arrival.

Absentmindedly tearing open the envelope, her fingers freeze at the sight in front of her.

A ticket to Paris for the week after Christmas. First class. With her name on it.

Suddenly the person she'd been doing her best to forget is at the front of her mind. And then her heart skips a beat as she feels the second ticket underneath. _Could it be—?_

Her fingers shaking, she separates the pages. PAULSEN / CLARA, the second ticket reads. "_Oh_," she gasps in surprise.

Then a note falls out of the envelope, and she knows for sure.

···································································  
_Because it's never too late for a happy ending_

_Merry Christmas, Donna  
_···································································

While she stares at the words, a tangled mess of emotions and questions threatens to overwhelm her. _Why now?_ _What does it mean? And how does he know?_

She needs answers and there only one person who can give them to her. She heads down the deserted hallway, wondering if they were the only two people with no one to go home to on Christmas Eve. Or maybe in their own strange way, this was where they felt most at home.

She finds Harvey sitting at his desk with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up, deep into a file as though it were any other evening of the year.

"You?" she asks in lieu of a greeting, holding up the envelope.

He looks up from his work and gives her a warm smile and a small nod. Setting down his file, he stands up and walks around his desk to meet her.

"I…I don't know what to say…" she says, still staring at the tickets in her hand as though she couldn't quite believe they were real.

"You don't need to say anything, except to promise me that you'll spend the week taking care of yourself, instead of everyone else, for a change."

"Harvey, this is so nice, but I can't take a whole week off, you—the firm—needs me here…"

"You can and you will," he says firmly. "You deserve this, Donna," he adds, his voice softening. "I'm just sorry it took so long to make it right."

"How did you even know…?"

"You don't remember? We were having drinks a few years ago celebrating the Sanofi merger, right here," he recalls, as she shakes her head. "You were wearing that green dress, the shiny one. I was going to Paris to finalize the deal and you told me what happened with your trip when you were young."

She's stunned by his remembrance, and touched that he had done something so thoughtful for her. After years of buying her own gifts, and then last year, when he'd avoided the topic altogether, she'd had zero expectations. But there's still something nagging at her. "Why now? What made you think of it, all these years later?"

Harvey seems to take a deep breath before he speaks, and there's a hint of nervousness in his voice as he stumbles over his words. "Um, I thought you really deserved a break, so—"

"So, it didn't mean anything?" she interrupts in frustration.

"Of course it means something, Donna, it's a gift—"

"You know what I mean. Something…" She stops herself before the '_more_' can escape her lips. "Never mind." Those four letters were so loaded with meaning that they could only make this conversation more difficult than it already was.

"I wanted to make you happy," he offers.

It's a nice sentiment, but thirteen years in, it's just not enough. Donna looks down sadly. She's already said too much, pushed too far, but the dam has been opened and it's too late to stem the flood now. "It's just—for a second there, I thought…I thought the second ticket…was for you." Her shoulders sag the tiniest fraction.

She's tired.

Her confession hangs in the air and he just stares at her, brow furrowed with disbelief, unable to find words. _Typical, _she thinks.

"Oh—I'm sorry, I didn't think…" he stammers.

Embarrassed by her candor, she looks away. "Please, forget I said anything, I'm sorry…this is such a generous gift and I've just been so stupid—"

"No, it's…you…you would want to go with me?"

His response is so unexpected that she's momentarily speechless herself. She finds his warm brown eyes full of longing; he's looking at her like his entire world depends on her response. She suddenly understands that he's finally ready to love her in every way possible, if only she would give him a sign.

"You know…Mitchell asked me to go with him last year."

"I didn't know that," he says cautiously, understandably confused by her bringing up an ex in a moment like this.

"I said no."

"Oh…why?"

She sighs, her head tilting just slightly to the side, as if to say _you know why_. "After we had to cancel our trip, and the money never came back, my mom tried to comfort me. She said that someday, when I was older, I'd get to go to Paris with…" she trails off uncertainly.

While she spoke, he had slowly closed the distance between them, until they were just inches apart, her body tingling at the proximity. She longed to reach for him, but she was determined that this time, the final step needed to come from him.

"…With?" he prompts softly.

She looks up at the man in front of her, thinks of everything they mean to each other, and she's never been more sure that it could only ever describe him. "With the love of my life."

His eyes widen, as though it's a far bigger opening than he ever imagined getting. It's also far past time for him to drop the pretense, and so he does. He takes the final step toward her and it's simultaneously the hardest and the easiest thing he's ever done.

And then it's all a blur as one hand tugs her waist and the other threads into her hair, and he gets to remember the taste of her lips after almost a year of trying to forget. It's a bit more possessive and a bit more primal than he'd intended. But then he's been waiting a long time.

He's never been good with words, but he's good at this. So he pours every emotion he could possibly express into holding her as close as he can (because he's never letting go now) and deepening the kiss until neither is sure where one ends and the other begins.

They finally pull apart, breathless and hearts racing, and lest she think he only wants her body, he makes his claim for her heart.

"Donna," he says, softly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "I'd really like to be the love of your life." Harvey had fought for a lot of titles in his life. Senior partner, name partner, managing partner; the list went on and on. But this one was worth more to him than all the rest combined.

"Then it's a good thing you already are."

He takes her in his arms again and he can't ever remember being this happy; the feeling of relief and joy and gratitude and love all blended together is beyond what he'd even dreamed this moment would feel like. He can hardly bear to stop kissing her but he'd really like a bed for the things he plans to do with her and besides, it's Christmas, and for the first time he has the chance to celebrate it with the woman he loves.

"What do you say we get out of here?"

She nods, her eyes dark with desire, and he takes her hand and leads her to the door.

Pausing to pick up the envelope that had fallen from her hands as they lost themselves in each other, he ponders her earlier confession. "You know, Paris will still be there on your birthday…and on Valentine's Day…"

"Harvey Specter does Valentine's Day now?" she says, incredulous.

"What can I say," he smiles. "With you, it's different."

※※ _Fin _※※


End file.
